


Gone Without a Trace

by Doctor_Discord



Series: Trauma AU [14]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Hypothermia, Injury, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: Sometimes, people disappear around the Host. It was only a matter of time before it happened to one of the egos.
Relationships: Bim Trimmer/The King of the Squirrels, Illinois/Eric Derekson, The Host/Dr. Iplier
Series: Trauma AU [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739428
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Gone Without a Trace

The Host could make people disappear.

It was the most _terrifying_ thing to come out of his madness. If someone didn’t exist in the reality he currently thought he was in, there was a very real possibility of them just _vanishing_ in his _proper_ reality. Thankfully, it never seemed to last more than a few seconds as the radius of the Host’s magic passed.

It’d never happened to an ego before.

Not until now.

King poked his head into the living area from the kitchen, where Dark, Bim, Illinois, and Eric were. He’d always been a skittish man, especially with the Author around, but after he started dating Bim…he’d gotten a little better. But now, he was a _mess_ , worse than he _ever_ was with the Author. “H-h-have any of you seen Dr. Iplier? I-I checked his office, a-and his room, and the Host’s, but…”

“I haven’t seen him all day.” Illinois shrugged, one arm wrapped around Eric’s shoulders. Eric was smiling happily as he nestled against Illinois’ chest, but the guilty look on Illinois’ face wasn’t something King thought too hard about.

“Why did you need him?” Dark glanced up from his book, voice heartbreakingly soft. He was curled up in one of the arm chairs, pulled close to the crackling fireplace, next to his bookshelf. It’d become his little corner.

King said nothing, but held up a palm. A collective wince rippled through the room at the sight of the shallow gash, blood smeared across his palm. His hand shook. Bim flinched wildly, tearing his eyes away from the sight and pulling his knees up to his chest. King’s voice shook as much as his hand. “I-I-I was c-climbing up to my treehouse, you know, t-to see how it is a-after so long? But – I-I slipped, and –” He sniffed, lowering his hand. “Do…you know where he is?”

Dark shook his head slowly. “You could try asking the Host. Slim chance he’ll give you a proper answer, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Ask the Host what?”

At that moment, the Host himself wandered in, hands in his pockets, ink dripping steadily from his lips and black and red swirled in the stains on his bandages, coating his cheeks in almost artistic smears. He looked…more that stable than he had been in the past, though the Host’s stability was relative; his words betrayed more than his body language. 

Dark offered him a small smile. “Do you know where Dr. Iplier is? King needs him for his hand.”

The Host’s brow furrowed in confusion, tilting his head slightly. “Who’s Dr. Iplier?”

The temperature of the room seemed to drop rapidly as ice trickled down everyone’s spine. The Host just seemed to grow more confused, and he shrunk in on himself, into his coat, taking a scared step backwards. “…What did I say? Why…why is everyone so quiet?”

“Host…” Bim stood, taking a cautious step forward, and the Host flinched back violently, retreating back into the hallway. “Please… _Dr. Iplier_. Your husband.”

The Host shook his head, covering his ears as he continued to walk backwards. “No no no no no, the Host doesn’t have a husband, he doesn’t know who Dr. Iplier is, _please_ stop saying that name…”

Bim pressed harder, raising his hands placatingly. “ _Please_ , Host, you _have_ to remember him. We _need_ him. Bring him back.”

“Shut up _shut up SHUT UP!_ ” The Host fell backwards, curling into a ball on the floor in the middle of the hallway. Eric sobbed loudly when the Host suddenly raised his voice, Illinois trying to soothe him as Dark flinched wildly himself, coiling into a tight ball with his aura nearly hiding him entirely from view. “Dr. Iplier _doesn’t exist!_ You’re making him up! Leave the Host alone, he _doesn’t have a husband!_ ”

“Then what’s on your finger, Host?” Bim crouched down beside him, taking the Host’s hand, though he was obviously nervous as the scent of the Host’s blood grew stronger. He held up the Host’s left hand, shifting his wedding band. “If you’re not married, then why do you have a wedding ring?”

The Host said nothing, just sobbed violently. Eric was having his own meltdown on the couch, crawling into Illinois’ lap and clinging to him desperately. The Host hesitantly ran a finger over his wedding band, and he let out another sob, clutching his fist to his chest. “The Host – I – I don’t –” He made a small, pathetic noise, curling into a tighter ball, hands covering the back of his head.

There was a harsh, desperate gasp, and suddenly Dr. Iplier was standing in the hallway, lips blue, face disturbingly pale as he slumped against the wall and slid to the ground. He shivered violently, tears visibly frozen to his face, and he crawled over to the Host, clinging to him. He practically climbed into the Host’s coat with him, uncaring of the blood and ink, just _shivering_. “H-Hos-s-st-t…”

The Host wrapped his arms around Dr. Iplier, the two of them laying curled on the floor. Wherever Dr. Iplier had been…he didn’t look good. Dark hesitantly lifted his head again, craning his neck to see into the hallway, before tentatively reaching out with his aura. He pulled the two into the room to rest in front of the fire, Dr. Iplier’s violent shivering _extremely_ concerning, but there wasn’t much they could do about it.

King whimpered a little, blood dripping down his fingers and onto the carpet, and Bim winced. He hesitantly approached, taking King’s uninjured hand. “…Come on, I’ll clean that up for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> ;-; my boy is trying his best....  
> Just one more left!
> 
> Tumblr: doctordiscord123.tumblr.com


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